Ironside: The Madness of Kings
by Sealgirl
Summary: UPDATED CH 7 ! -An explosion at one of the university buildings leads Chief Robert Ironside and his team into the world of terrorism as the city of San Francisco is held to ransom. Set late Season 5.
1. The Wrong Kind Of Birthday Surprise

**Title** – The Madness of Kings "Chapter 1 – The Wrong Kind Of Birthday Surprise"

**Rating** – R (violent imagery, violence)

**Summary** – An explosion at one of the university buildings leads Chief Robert Ironside and his team into the world of terrorism as the city of San Francisco is held to ransom. (Set Season 5).

**A/N** – Written for the lj comm spook_me. I've taken a couple of little liberties with the science in this one – it is supposed to be Mad Scientist, after all!

**A/N II** - Sorry for the delay. I intend to update on Saturdays for this one; if it goes well, I might up it to include Tuesdays.

* * *

The Madness of Kings

Chapter 1

The Wrong Kind Of Birthday Surprise

The city of San Francisco was quiet as Sergeant Ed Brown drove his black Ford Galaxie though the downtown streets towards the police Department. He took his time, driving as slowly as he could get away with without stalling the car and getting in the way of the few other cars that were out so early in the morning.

He was going to be late, even if it meant having to stop for another cup of coffee on the way in. Everybody knew what the Chief was like in the week running up to his birthday. Under the circumstances, the best thing to do was to keep out of Ironside's way. And that was the reason Ed was taking his time to get into work, and that was the also the reason he responded to the robbery call when it came through the radio, even though technically he wasn't on duty.

At first, he though that he could just stand in until the black-and-white showed up, knowing that would make it easier when the Chief complained about him being late.

He pulled up the sedan in the parking lot near the front entrance and got out to lean on the door and look around. The morning was warm for April, and there was a lingering fog in the air.

Ed stood there for a couple of minutes, knowing that the patrol was due any moment, but no one else arrived.

The building in front of him was the Kingston Building, one of a new wave of modern steel and glass structures that had been built over the past few years. Though Ed had driven past a number of times, he had never been inside. The lights were on in the foyer, but there seemed to be no one about, there was no sign of movement. That last fact made him uneasy, though it was early in the morning, there still should have been someone there, even if it was just the night watchman.

At last, Ed decided that he couldn't wait any longer. He shut the door of his car and walked quietly across to the entrance. Just outside large, glass front door, he paused looking warily from left to right. He was a trained police officer, a sergeant, and one of the best in the department; he had to be, working for Chief Ironside. But this time he couldn't quite put his finger on just what was bothering him. After waiting for a few moments, he tried the handle on the door. It was unlocked.

Ed frowned. It shouldn't have been unlocked.

There was still no sign of the black-and-white, so Ed pulled his gun out of its holster then slowly pushed the door open and went inside.

The moment he stepped through the doorway, he flinched at the strange, sickly smell that caught at the back of his nose. It smelled like something had been on fire recently, a little like charred plastic mixed with burnt cooking oil or tar. But there was no smoke, or any other indication of a fire. He coughed, trying to clear his throat of the lingering aftertaste.

Ahead, the foyer was wide but shallow, there was a deep red carpet and plain white walls, with a brightly coloured, modern art picture at the very back, behind the main reception desk. There was a long corridor off at the right side, with the reception desk just beside it. Ed noticed a couple more doors off to his left, both shut. One looked like a fire door, the other one might have been through to one of the labs.

He stood at the doorway for a few moments, debating the best course of action. The call hadn't said anything about a fire; it was a two-eleven, a robbery though not called as in-progress, and that was all. There wasn't anything he could really _do_, and if he went by the book, he should go back out to his car and wait for backup.

However, backup was certainly on it's way and, as first officer on the scene, he had a duty to investigate now he was here. What harm could it do to have a preliminary look around?

He let the door swing shut behind him and it closed with a crunch. Ed looked back, curious at the unusual noise, then down to the floor. Scattered around on the plush, expensive carpet were small pieces of black glass.

Intrigued, Ed bent down to pick one up, but even as his fingers came close, he could feel heat coming it and he saw the carpet underneath it was fused together, as if someone had carelessly dropped a lit match.

With a frown, he straightened up, then paused for a few moments as he looked around the room.

Ed had an excellent sense for trouble, and all of a sudden being here seemed like a very bad idea indeed, something unpleasant had happened, he was dead sure about _that_. He was just about to retreat and call in to the fire department when he thought he saw something odd just beside the reception desk.

He reached for his gun instinctively, and moved forward with the weapon at the ready, and peered round the corner behind the table.

In the middle of the floor, where the seats should have been, there was a very large, dark stain on the carpet. His first guess was it was blood. He knelt down to take a better look and saw a pale lump of something else underneath the table. For a second he didn't want to believe what he was seeing, but he knew it was a piece of someone's hand; there was a fragment of clothing under it and the twisted metal of a ring round a finger.

Ed swallowed the wave of sickness that hit him. In the Marines, he'd seen death and men and women who had been cut down by war. As a policeman in San Francisco, he dealt with death every second day, but he had never found pieces of a body before.

He stood up and stepped back awkwardly, bumping in to the desk, his hand over his mouth. Still holding his gun, Ed picked up the phone, thinking to call 911 and get the fire department and an ambulance, but the line was dead. He dropped the useless phone to the table.

Undecided, Ed stood there staring for a couple of seconds. He knew he should get out of there, that was the most sensible thing to do. But there might be other people still in the building. He had a duty to make sure the building was empty, and after this, he couldn't even guess what else he might find.

But the downside was that it was dangerous. He had no idea what had happened here, and he was vulnerable with no backup. He took a glance up the corridor ahead, but nothing moved. It was unlikely that there was anyone else here, but even so, Ed knew he couldn't take the chance and just walk away.

That decision probably saved his life.

Ed took a few, cautious steps away from the front desk towards the corridor. As he did so, there was another noise to his left and he glanced back over his shoulder to the foyer, thinking that backup had finally arrived.

One of the doors at the far end had opened and a young woman stood there, her straight, brown hair hanging forward over her shoulders like a hood. She was likely to be a student, judging from her floating, garish orange clothes. But her mouth was open in a soundless scream, her brown eyes wide with horror and Ed though that around her reddened face there was a tint of green.

The girl stood there for a few moments, frozen in place. Then she lifted up her arms and Ed suddenly realised the right arm below the elbow was missing.

Spinning round as fast as he could, Ed reacted by instinct, thinking to go and help her. He had only just started to step forward when there was a roar of noise and fire erupted from the room behind her in a tidal wave of red and orange.

Ed barely had time to raise his arm to protect his eyes before the initial shockwave knocked him backwards off his feet.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of a scream.

* * *


	2. The Art Of Avoidance

Chapter 2

The Art Of Avoidance

'He was lucky, Bob, damned lucky!' said Commissioner Dennis Randall. 'There are very, _very_ few people could have got up and walked away from an explosion like that!'

Chief Robert Ironside sat in his wheelchair, looking attentively up at the Commissioner as the man paced the room. They were in the Chief's attic office-home, hidden away at the top of the police building in the heart of San Francisco. In the kitchen area, the Chief's aide, Mark Sanger was making them some coffee and trying to keep out of the way.

It had only been a few hours since they'd heard the news of Ed's near miraculous escape from death, and Ironside had initially intended to go straight to the hospital to see if his sergeant was all right. But instead, he'd put the other two members of his staff to work on the preliminaries of the case, determined to force, coerce or bribe his own superior into giving it to him.

But Commissioner Dennis Randall had pre-empted Ironside this time. He obviously knew the Chief would want in on the case and he had appeared in the office not long after Ironside himself had heard the news, much sooner than Ironside would have expected.

'And you're sure he's alright?' Dennis asked.

Ironside nodded.

'As alright as a man can be after nearly being blow up,' said Ironside caustically.

'You know what I mean, Bob.'

'I got a phone call from him, from the hospital. I was half way through bawling him out from being late when he told me where he was and what had happened.'

The Commissioner stopped pacing, and sat down in one of the seats next to the Chief. He looked at Ironside with a serious expression.

'Bob, I want you to take the case. I expect you've already started.'

His attitude surprised Ironside.

'You're not even going to make me ask nicely?' asked the Chief. 'Why?'

'You're the man I need to get it done, Bob,' Randall said with a scowl. 'As a Special Consultant, you can be assigned cases that…'

'So you want me on this case. _Why_?'

'I thought you would be pleased.'

'I am, but that _doesn't_ answer the question.'

'It's going to be tricky, Bob,' said the Commissioner.

'Tricky? And I suppose _tricky_ is my speciality?'

'You know as well as I do that you are perfect for this case. It needs a delicate touch.'

Ironside raised his eyebrows in surprise, and heard the sudden chink of crockery from Mr Sanger as one of the cups slipped out of his hand.

'A _delicate_ touch?' echoed Ironside

'You know what I mean, Bob. This is a big one.'

Ironside nodded slowly. In truth, he had hoped that the Commissioner would have to ask him to help, but the implication that there was something else going on in the background was unnerving.

'I want the full facts, Dennis,' he said, holding up his hand to forestall any interruptions. 'And I want an explanation as to just why exactly you think this one is going to be _tricky_!'

'Does that mean you'll do it?'

Once more, Ironside nodded.

'Of course,' he replied.

Dennis Randall gave an obvious sigh of relief.

'And my explanation?' asked Ironside.

'I have two words for you, Bob,' said Dennis. 'Gordon Kingston. I take it that you _have_ heard of him? Haven't you?'

Ironside nodded, with a frown.

'Yes, I know all about Gordon Kingston!' he said sourly.

'Well, he's back in town, has been for the past few weeks. And he's taken over the running of the Kingston Building again.'

Ironside silently cursed the bad luck. He hadn't known that.

'He's not going to be very pleased that half the front of his building is now decorating the parking lot,' said Dennis, with a serious expression.

'I don't doubt it!' said Ironside.

'And he's going to want the investigation to be quick as well, I would think. He's going to use his money and leverage to get it.'

Ironside nodded.

'What if it's not as straightforward as you and everyone else seems to think it's going to be?'

'Well, that's why I wanted you,' replied Randall. 'If anyone can handle Gordon Kingston, it's you.'

Ironside smiled grimly.

'There's no need for flattery, Dennis,' he said. 'I've already said yes to taking the case.'

The Commissioner rose slowly.

'It's not flattery, Bob. Just get this cleared up as quickly and cleanly as you can.'

He gave Mark a polite nod, and Ironside a slightly smug smile and left the office, presumably before Ironside could change his mind.

The Chief watched Randall leave with a thoughtful frown. Mark sidled up beside him and took a seat.

'So, Chief, just who is this Gordon Kingston?' Mark asked. 'And why does he have the Commissioner so rattled?'

'A very wealthy and influential man,' replied Ironside. 'Not the sort of man to make an investigation like this easy, he'll have his own agenda.'

'Agenda?'

'You'd better believe it,' said the Chief. 'And what Gordon Kingston wants, Gordon Kingston gets.'

'So we'd better hope that this is just a straightforward accident?' asked Mark.

'Nothing to do with that man is ever straightforward! But the best we can hope for is that we get this over with as cleanly as we can.'

'Where do we start?'

Ironside lifted the reports that Randall had left on his desk.

'A little reading first.'

Mark grinned at him.

'I'll get you some coffee, then.'

Ironside nodded, already starting to read the preliminary reports.

At first glance it seemed straightforward enough. The fire-crew seemed to think it was a chemical explosion, probably from one of the storage areas. They hadn't found anything unusual. That boded well for a straightforward investigation.

After a few more minutes reading, he put the folder down, and sat back in his wheelchair, a thoughtful look on his face. Apart from the presence of Gordon Kingston, he didn't see that anything would be too tricky about this.

'Everything ok, Chief?' asked Mark.

'I think so,' he replied. 'But we need to get down to the Kingston Building. I want a full list of personnel who worked there, who had access, who had keys. Then I want you to get onto the lab boys downstairs. And find Fran; get her over there as fast as you can as well, once she's finished at Records.'

'But she's supposed to be…'

Mark didn't get to finish as unexpectedly the door of the office opened. Ironside looked up, his expression of surprise changing to one of displeasure as Sergeant Ed Brown walked slowly in.

Ed was still in the clothes he had been in when they'd helped him out of the destroyed building, they were slightly dusty and his tie was loose round his neck, his top button undone. He also looked more pale than usual under his Californian tan, and his arm was in a sling. But other than that, and a few light scratches across his handsome face, there was no way to tell that he'd just cheated death.

'What the _blue blazes_ are you doing here?' thundered Ironside.

'I do work here, Chief!' Ed replied.

'And less that five hours ago they almost had to scrape what was left of you off the walls of the Kingston Building! And now you're _here_?'

'It's good to see you too, Chief,' Ed replied with a tired smile. 'The doc said I was fine, and I should go home, but…'

'The doctor knows what he's talking about! You _should_ go home!'

Ed cocked his head slightly, his eyebrow raised. Ironside didn't like it when Ed did that, he knew who he'd picked that little mannerism up from. And while imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, the Chief was _not_ impressed!

'And I knew you would be assigned the case,' Ed replied.

Ironside leaned forward matching Ed's expression. Why did that man have to be so flamin' stubborn?

'That maybe so, Sergeant Brown! But when I _want_ your statement, I can come and _get_ it!' he said sternly, his voice rising in volume. 'Go home! That is an order!'

Ed looked shocked at the reaction, but he couldn't in all honesty have expected anything else. Ironside didn't understand what Brown hoped to prove by this little exchange.

'But…' started Sergeant Brown.

'Damn it, Ed, you shouldn't be here!' snapped Ironside. 'I don't want to see you in this office for the next few days, do I make myself clear? I'll suspend you if I have to! Now _go home_!'

A crestfallen look crossed Ed's face and his shoulders drooped down. He half-turned.

'I just wanted to know… I want to know who she was, that was all.'

Ironside gave nothing away, and his expression didn't change.

'Who _she_ was?' he asked.

Ed looked back to him, staring him directly in the eye, and Ironside didn't like the nervous, upset and decidedly out-of-character emotions that he thought he could see there. When Ed next spoke, the words seemed to come out in a jumble.

'I tried, I did. But I didn't get a chance. I was too slow to get a chance to help her, I don't know. I didn't get anywhere near where she was and if I had, maybe I could have helped. If I'd gone the other way, or if I'd been closer…' The sergeant let out a slow sigh and shook his head. Then Ed turned back to the door and took a few languid steps towards it.

'Ed?' called Ironside suddenly.

'I'm going, I'm going!' he said, not looking around. 'You won't see me for days.'

'_Ed_!'

The sergeant turned, his face creased with confusion.

'Yes, Chief?'

'Sergeant Brown?' said Ironside. 'Just _who_ are you talking about?'

'The girl, the one in the building when it blew,' Ed replied, stepping back towards Ironside, the confusion on his face growing more pronounced. 'Surely someone found her? That's why you're on the case, isn't it?'

The Chief shook his head.

'There was no one else in that building. Only you. That's what the initial report said.' He put his hand on the folder beside him. 'There was nothing about a girl.'

Ed shook his head in amazement.

'No, Chief!' he said firmly, looking between Mark and Ironside. 'I know what you're thinking but she was _there_, I saw her! I did!'

There was no reason to think that he'd imagined a girl, but that was the very first that he'd heard about it. And _if_ there had been someone else there, what had happened to her? Why did nobody know?

The Commissioner's words came back to him; it was going to be _tricky_. Well, maybe it was going to be trickier than even the Commission had bargained for. And if it was, he was going to need all the help he could get, and all the information he could get as well. Ironside looked to Mark, then back to Ed.

'What else do you remember? What else do you know?'

'The details are kinda fuzzy,' began Ed.

Ironside let out a huff. That was just typical! He had a hint of something else, but that was all! The Chief looked at his sergeant carefully, thinking that a trip to the scene might help jog his memory. But it wasn't going to be easy for Ed. Maybe he didn't fully appreciate what he was getting himself into. But that couldn't be helped, not now.

'Ok then, Sergeant Brown,' he said slowly. 'Maybe you can come with us for the ride. Just this once.'

* * *


	3. A Shock to the System

Chapter 3

A Shock to the System

They were silent in the van and Ironside watched Ed as he stared out of the side window. The sergeant was lost in his own thoughts, he had barely responded when the Chief spoke and, for the time being, Ironside was content to leave it like that.

Mark drove steadily through the city, and out towards the remains of the Kingston Building. It was away from the main campus, set back in its own small grounds. Once it had been a fine structure, modern and eye-catching, with a steel and glass frontage. Now, it was still eye-catching, but for the wrong reasons; most of the front was missing and a thin line of white smoke rose into the clear blue, Californian sky.

There was still a fire crew there, and one or two police officers, and the main part of the damaged area had been cordoned off. At one side, in the rumble-strewn parking lot, Ironside could see a black Ford police car, presumably belonging to Ed, half-crushed beneath a large block of masonry. The Chief saw his sergeant give a tiny shiver.

Ironside remained quiet as they parked, looking at Ed, and at the sling, and the small cuts on his face. The Chief gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Having Brown here was a bad idea, he knew it by instinct. The man had almost died in there, and only a few hours before as well.

But then, the Commissioner had given them a job to do, and Ed was the only one who had seen what had happened. He was an invaluable source of information. But seeing the state of the building _now_ was not going to be easy, even for someone as focused as Ed Brown.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the people mill about, until Ironside judged that enough was enough.

'Ok Ed,' Ironside said. 'You're going to have to tell us what happened.'

The atmosphere grew more tense, making even Ironside uncomfortable. He had never seen Ed so uncomfortable before.

'I can't remember that much,' the sergeant admitted at last. 'The girl's face, the smell… I'm not sure.'

Ironside nodded slowly.

'It's ok, Ed. Just think carefully. Start at the beginning. You were coming in to work, and you heard the call on your radio…'

'Yeah,' he said slowly. 'I heard the call come in through the radio on my way in. A two-eleven, in progress. I thought I'd stop to take a look around.'

'Backup?' asked Ironside.

'A couple of cars were on their way. I called in too, and said I would take a look. I was just a few blocks away.'

'Hmm,' grunted Ironside. That was just typical of the man, he didn't know when to let well alone. 'And then?'

'I stopped and parked,' Ed replied, his voice more confident. 'There was no sign of anyone around, but the lights were on in the foyer. I waited for a few minutes then I went to check, and the door was unlocked. I went inside, it was quiet, and there was an odd smell, like oil, y'know, cooking oil, and plastic. I went to the desk...'

His face suddenly changed to one of shock and revulsion and he stalled at the next word. Then there was a short but very unpleasant silence.

'There was blood,' Ed said quietly. 'And... and half of someone's hand.'

'What?' said Ironside, the worried feeling that he'd had suddenly changing into something else, something very unpleasant. 'What the blazes do you mean?'

Ed was breathing hard and he put his hand up to cover his mouth. For a few moments he said nothing. The Chief, though needing more explanation but he waited for his sergeant to regain control. There was no question in Ironside's mind that Ed believed what he'd seen, whatever it was. The look on his face left very little room for doubt.

'I know what I saw,' Ed said eventually. 'Near the desk. How could I have forgotten? Oh God, how…?'

He stopped, a look of horror on his face.

'Ed? Ed!' said Ironside sharply.

Brown looked around to Ironside with a sudden jerk of his head.

'I didn't imagine it Chief, if that's what you think!' Ed replied, his voice strained.

'But the first crews and the police didn't find any sign of anyone else,' said the Chief gently. 'There's nothing in their report that…'

'I didn't imagine it!' he insisted.

'You're sure?' Ironside asked carefully. 'Did you check th...?'

'You think I'd make this up?' snapped Ed, interrupting. 'And how was I supposed to check!'

Ironside was silent for a few moments, thinking that it was better to let the matter pass at the moment. He nodded.

'Ok, Ed. So that's what you saw. What happened next? What about the girl? Try and remember. Where was she? What was she doing?'

'I'm not sure…'

'Try and remember. What did you do next? You were at the desk.'

Ed's face darkened, and when he continued, he spoke very slowly and quietly.

'The phone was dead when I tried to call in. So I stopped. I was going to turn back and go outside, and call in from the phone in the car and get an ambulance. But I thought there might be other people in the building. I was going to check when the girl appeared behind me. From one of the doors in the left hand wall, I think. I heard a noise. I turned to look. And she was just standing there.'

'Did you recognise her?' Ed shook his head. 'What was she like?'

Ed screwed up his face, shutting his eyes as he tried to remember.

'Young, early twenties, maybe five-six. Slim, pretty, long brown hair. I though she was a student at first, but…' Ed stopped for a few seconds. 'Her arm, it was missing below the elbow.'

'Missing?' Ironside's bad feeling suddenly grew more acute. Just how much worse was this going to get?

Though Ed nodded, his expression grew more concerned.

'Was there blood?' Ironside asked. 'Had it just happened?'

Ed looked out of the van window and Ironside waited, trying hard not to let his impatience show to a man who was obviously struggling to keep control of himself.

'I don't know,' replied Ed eventually. 'I'm really sorry, Chief, I can't be sure. I didn't see her for more than a few seconds, and I was looking at her face, not her arm. I don't remember any blood. But I won't ever forget her face.'

Ironside nodded.

'And then?'

'And then there was a scream.' Ed closed his eyes for a few moments, turning even paler than before. 'And a roar. And the next thing I know I'm lying on the ground, covered in dust and the wall in front of me was just gone, there was sky when there should have been walls and a roof. I couldn't believe it.'

Mark looked from Ed to Ironside, and back again.

'That's one hell of a story, man,' he said.

With a long sigh, Ed leaned forward, covering his eyes. Ironside couldn't be sure, but he thought Ed was shaking slightly.

'You're telling me!' the sergeant said. 'I'm not sure that I would believe it myself!'

Ironside gently patted Ed on the shoulder and he looked up, tired and drained.

'Do you believe me, Chief?' Ed asked.

Ironside nodded. Ed was an excellent witness, he always had been. He had trained himself to have a near photographic memory when it came to investigating, and even in such difficult circumstances he could be relied on to not embellish the facts with ill-considered speculation.

'Yes, Ed. I do believe you.'

Ed gave a sigh of relief as Ironside turned to his aide.

'Mark, I want you to call Frank for me, from the Police Lab, get him and his colleagues down here. I want that building gone over again, this time looking for human remains as well.'

Mark nodded.

'What about me?' asked Ed. 'Do I get to stay and help?'

Ironside wasn't surprised at the request, but Ed was going to find it a tough assignment. However, it was also clear that it was something that he felt he needed to do.

'I think you can stay for a while longer,' said Ironside.

Ed smiled for the first time in the whole conversation.

'Oh, no, not like that sergeant,' he said. 'If Dennis found out I had let you back to work, he would _not_ be pleased! You can concentrate on identifying your mystery girl. I can reasonably let you get on with that, and the Commissioner can't complain.'

'Sure Chief.' He made as if to get out of the van.

'Just a moment, Ed,' said Ironside. 'Though I _know_ what you're answer is going to be already, I have to ask. Are you ok with doing this? Here? Now?'

Ed frowned, taking a glance at the building and then looking down to the floor of the van. Ironside saw his shoulders rise, then fall. While Ed was silent, he kept watching.

The Chief was an excellent judge of character, a skill honed over twenty-five years on the force. Ed wasn't about to give up without any answers. But this wasn't the same as anything they'd ever done before. Ed was personally involved in this one, in a way that no cop should ever be. That could cause them problems later.

At last Ed looked up to his boss. He nodded.

'I'm sure. I've got to do this now, while the details are still fresh.'

'And to Hell with doctor's orders?'

Ed gave a thin smile and nodded.

'You're keeping the wrong kind of company,' Ironside said. For the first time since Ed had walked through the office doorway that morning, he gave a genuine smile.

'I've had a good teacher,' he said.

'Whatever you do, _don't_ say that to Dennis, or I'll never hear the end of it!'

'Agreed.'

'Then let's go.'

As Mark spoke on the van's phone, Ed helped Ironside out of the side door, and together they walked across the car park towards the fire officers.

Ironside watched Ed as he looked around amazed, his expression would have been funny if the situation wasn't so serious. The whole of the front part of the building was gone. The fireball that had blasted its way out of the building had twisted the metal of the doors into fantastic shapes.

But amazingly, the picture on the back wall of the foyer was virtually untouched, only very slightly askew. Further back, down the corridor, there was nothing to show that this wasn't a normal building.

As they stood there, Mark came up to join them, shaking his head slowly.

'That is unbelievable,' murmured he. 'How…?'

'That is an excellent question,' said a terse voice from close by.

Ironside recognised the voice immediately as belonging to Gordon Kingston, the owner of the whole suite of buildings. Slowly, Ironside glanced around. Kingston was about forty, his dark hair very slightly streaked with grey. He had a long face a little like a greyhound, and he never seemed to smile very much.

Beside him was an intense-looking woman, a few years younger than Kingston, with light brown hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a light coloured jumper and brown trousers. She stood with her arms crossed, her gaze constantly flicking between Kingston, the Chief and Ed.

'Chief Robert Ironside, it's a pleasure to see you here,' Kingston said, giving the Chief's hand a hearty shake.

Ironside nodded.

'Hello again, Gordon. This is Mark Sanger, my aide, and this is Sergeant Ed Brown.'

After a moment of impolite staring, Kingston firmly shook Ed's hand, looking him up and down at the same time.

'So you really _are _still among the living!' he said. 'When my secretary told me someone had walked away from the blast, I didn't believe her.'

Ironside looked to the young lady beside Kingston, making the reasonable assumption that this was the secretary in question. The young woman stared back, unamused.

Kingston laughed.

'Oh, no, Chief. This is Doctor Wright. She's not anyone secretary!'

The Chief held out his hand.

'Pleased to meet you,' he said. The woman paused for a few moments, then took his hand with a firm, almost masculine grip. She didn't smile or look in any way pleased to meet him. She didn't say anything.

'So what are you going to do?' Kingston asked the Chief. 'It seems pretty clear to me that something went wrong with the storage area. I'll have to review the safety procedures. And I'll have to get this whole place cleared up. It's going to cost a fortune to get the facia back up. Thank God there wasn't more damage. And thank God it didn't happen when the building was full of students, either! Oh, that doesn't bear thinking about!'

He gave a small shudder, as if to prove his point. Next to Ironside, Ed Brown shifted uncomfortably, clearly not paying much attention to the conversation, as he gaze was fixed on the devastated building.

'Perhaps you would show my sergeant to the campus offices, Doctor Wright,' the Chief suggested politely.

She didn't look pleased at the request.

'I'm sure your sergeant doesn't need a baby-sitter,' she said. 'And I have work to do.'

Ironside waited. The woman didn't say anything, and eventually, Kingston was obliged to step in.

'Will you please just do as the Chief asks, Doctor Wright? We are here to help with his investigation, and get this place back up and running as fast as we can.'

She gave Kingston an indifferent look, then turned and walked off without another word.

At a head jerk from Ironside, Ed went after her, having to jog to catch up. His departure left a stony silence. But when Ironside looked back to Kingston, the man had a rueful smile on his face.

'Doctor Wright doesn't seem pleased to help us out,' observed Ironside.

'Wright's not pleased about anything' Kingston said. 'Doesn't like to be sidelined, doesn't like not being involved. But I can't say I'm surprised at her attitude today, most of her work's just gone up in smoke!'

'Her work?'

'Her lab was just there.' Gordon pointed to the smoldering remains in front of them.

'What does she do?'

'Well, she trained as a chemist, but I'd hardly call that her job description.' Ironside waited for him to say more. 'Hounding students is what she usually does! Not the most popular of my staff, by a long way. But certainly one of the most brilliant.'

Ironside nodded.

'So what can you tell me, Gordon?'

Kingston looked mildly surprised as he glanced down at the Chief.

'I don't know what you expect me to say, Chief Ironside,' he replied. 'I got a call this morning from my secretary to say that half my building was missing! I thought she was joking!'

'And it as an unexpected call?'

'_What_ is that supposed to mean?'

'Did you have storage issues? Did you have security issues? Disgruntled employees that might want to get back at you? Reasons why the building might have been targeted?'

The Chief watched with a grim fascination as his words caused increasing outrage.

'Just what are you implying, Ironside?' he snapped. 'Targeted, indeed! There was nothing wrong in, or _with,_ my department!'

'Something certainly went wrong early this morning,' said Ironside, nodding towards the smoking shell beside them.

'That was an accident. It was just by chance.'

'How can you be so sure?'

'Just what are you implying?' asked Kingston angrily.

'I'm not implying anything,' said Ironside. 'But we have to find out the truth behind what happened here.'

'Truth?'

'We have to find out exactly what happened.'

Kingston gave the Chief a very black look.

'I don't see that there is much to question,' he said. 'There must have been a mistake with the storage. That's all.'

'A mistake?'

'Yes.'

The Chief said nothing. But Kingston's conviction only made Ironside even more convinced that there was more to this _accident_, and not just because of Ed's report. Buildings do not normally explode when someone makes a mistake in storage. And building certainly did not explode with such force either, unless there was something very, very wrong.

Kingston continued to glare for a few moments longer, then he looked away with a grunt.

'I suppose there's nothing I can do to change your mind,' he said sourly. 'You haven't mellowed with age.'

'Just let me do my job, and that will be help enough.'

Tight-lipped, Kingston nodded, then he turned and walked away. As he left, Ironside let out a long sigh.

'That is one stung out _cat_,' said Mark as soon as the man was out of earshot.

'Wouldn't you be if this happened to one of your buildings?'

Mark turned to look at Ironside, a concerned expression on his face.

'I wasn't talking about Kingston,' he replied, arching his eyebrows in a meaningful way. 'So what now, Chief?'

'We need to get some answers,' replied Ironside. 'And we need them quickly before anything else goes wrong!'

* * *

A/N - Firstly, an apology for being a week late - I was ill with flu, then a chest infection and so online-plans have vanished in a feverish haze!

Secondly, since I'm running late anyway, I want to give myself a little more time with the next part. I don't think I'll be posting it next weekend, so the next chapter will be up in a fortnight. Again, sorry about this, but I need to catch up properly.

* * *


	4. An Innocent Victim Of Circumstance

Chapter 4

An Innocent Victim Of Circumstance

The sun shone down brightly on the people in the university grounds as they went about their lives, and no one gave Ed a second glance as he walked towards the main office. But he felt more aware than ever before of what was going on around him: People walking, and talking, snippets of half-heard conversations, the smell of the grass and the fresh air. The sunlight felt warm on his skin, and the breeze was light and ruffled his hair as he moved.

But Ed walked in silence beside the stern Doctor Wright. Normally, his gregarious nature would have urged him to say something and start a conversation. However, it was obvious from her posture that she had nothing to say to him, and after a difficult morning of nearly being killed, he didn't feel he could _quite_ be bothered making small talk.

They walked briskly along the stony paths next to the green open spaces. He was surprised when she ushered him into the main office and he was even more surprised when, after he showed the secretary his badge and explaining that he wanted to check the student records, Doctor Wright leaned casually against the wall by the door, showing no sign that she intended to leave.

And there she stayed.

He started checking through the records, searching for names and addresses of anyone who could have been his mystery girl, ignoring the woman as she stood there watching him.

After fifteen minutes, Ed was growing increasingly annoyed. He knew Dr Wright was staring at him. He was used to attention of women; he liked it and he enjoyed cultivating it, but today it made him feel awkward. He could sometimes find women very distracting, as he liked to admire them, but the hostile demeanour of this particular woman wasn't something he could ever enjoy.

After another five minutes, he looked up, meeting her gaze. She didn't look away or appear in any way embarrassed that he'd caught her staring.

'Am I keeping you from something,' he asked politely. 'I thought you had work to do.'

'I find you more interesting at the moment, Sergeant Brown.'

That wasn't the answer he'd expected, nothing so candid. But he wasn't foolish enough to think that she was interested in him on a social basis. No, he was sure it was something else.

As if the brief exchange had been an invitation to stay, she moved forward and sat on the desk close to him. He couldn't help checking her out, following the curve of her hip and waist up to her chest, as it was part of his nature. Perhaps fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was looking at his arm in its sling. He stopped reading the records for a moment, glaring at her and wondering how to get her to leave without making an issue of it.

She gave a deliberate blink and looked up to his face, not making eye-contact, but looking at the tiny lines of scratches on his cheek. Then she reached out, catching his chin with the tips of her warm fingers and tilting his head to make them easier to see.

'I find you quite fascinating,' she said quietly. 'I don't usually get to meet dead men that can walk.'

Ed frowned, pulling his head back out of her way. This was not a conversation he wanted to have.

'And you really just got up and walked away?' she asked.

'Yes,' he replied shortly. 'I did.'

She continued to stare, as if examining a specimen in a test tube.

'That's incredible. The force of the explosion should have killed you.'

Ed drew a calming breath, even more uncomfortable with the way the conversation had turned than with the constant staring.

Yes, he'd had a very, _very_ lucky escape, a one in a million shot, and he didn't want people to keep on reminding him of that fact over and over again. And what made it even worse was that in surviving, he had also failed. The girl he'd seen and tried to help had died anyway.

Doctor Wright leaned forward and gave a surprisingly warm smile.

'And just why are you looking through these personnel files, Sergeant Brown?'

There was no real reason to tell her. But he still didn't want to. And after the bizarre treatment he'd been getting today, he wasn't _going_ to either.

'Just checking a few details.'

'Any particular reason?' the warm smile was still there, but starting to look a little more strained.

'It's my job.'

She stared at him, shifting slightly closer and leaning to the side, perhaps trying to show off her figure. He ignored her and looked away back down to his notes, aware she was swinging her leg back and forward. But it was too late for her to use her feminine wiles to get information out of him. Ed kept on writing.

'Are you looking for anyone in particular?'

He found it odd that she would ask that, but that made him even more determined not to give anything away.

'It's just routine,' he replied.

She sat there for a few more moments, and Ed said nothing more. When she didn't get a proper answer to her question, she stood and marched out, not bothering to say goodbye. As the door swung shut behind her, Ed breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

Frank from the police lab walked carefully over to where Ironside was waiting, picking his way through the rubble, his clipboard under one arm, and a very concerned look on his face. He was middle-aged, growing rounded at the waist, with greying hair combed back. He had only given the scene a cursory examination, but he already looked very unhappy.

'Afternoon Frank,' Ironside said when he saw him.

'Hi there, Chief.'

'Don't often get to see you _out_ on a case,' said Ironside as they shook hands. 'What have you got for me?'

Frank's frowned.

'I've got some things to take down to the lab. And I'll probably be back with my assistants later.' That sounded almost ominous to the Chief, that and the dark look Frank was giving him. 'Preliminary will be on your desk within three hours, Chief. I'll pull out all the stops on this one.'

'Thank you,' said the Chief, knowing that this was a tall order. 'Are you going to give me a hint now, or do I have to wait for the whole thing?'

'I can sum it up for you,' he said. 'I don't like this. I don't like this one little bit!'

'Which part of this don't you like?' asked Ironside with a relaxed smile. 'The explosion, or being out of your lab?'

Frank didn't smile back and Ironside's bad feeling grew that little bit worse.

'Chief, it's going to sound... well, you can get a second opinion if you want to but they'll just say the same as me.'

'Second opinion? Of course not, Frank,' Ironside said quickly. 'I believe that you know what you're talking about.'

Frank seemed pleased with that answer. He gave short nod.

'You see, Bob, simply put that explosion was not possible. And your Sergeant Brown should be dead.'

'But if it was just a lucky break…?'

'No,' said Frank firmly. 'It's got nothing to do with luck. As you said, I know what I'm talking about. I've looked at that back wall, it's like cardboard covered with paint. Any significant force would have brought it down _and_ the roof down on top of it, right where Ed Brown was.'

'But it didn't, man,' said Mark.

'I know,' said Frank with a vigorous nod. 'And _that_ is my problem. There's nothing I know of that could do the damage we've seen here, and in the pattern we've seen. The whole front of the building was blown away, Chief. And that back wall should not have been standing, not with the state that the rest of the building is in.'

'And you're certain?' asked Ironside in as level a voice as he could. Frank had been in the lab for twenty years, there wasn't anything he didn't know about explosives.

'Not any doubt, judging from the debris pattern,' said Frank. 'The main destructive force came from the left. And it was powerful, the stone, wood, metal or _anything_ in its way disintegrated. It took out the whole facia, propelling most of it over the parking lot too I might add, and the supporting wall to the left, _and_ part of the next floor.' He pointed to the back wall. 'There's a line, you can even see it from here, on one side there's damage, on the other, it looks like nothing has been touched.'

'And Ed was on the other side?'

Frank nodded.

'Just a half foot the other way and you would be in the market for a new sergeant.'

The Chief looked at the remains behind Frank, looking at the back wall. He knew it had been close, but not _that_ close. He'd never have agreed to let Ed anywhere near this place if he'd realised just how fortunate Ed had been.  
Ironside looked up at Frank, hoping for some of sort of reassurance, but the look on the other man's face made his gut twist.

'And you're sure?' Ironside asked.

'I'm telling you Chief,' said Frank quietly. 'There's no known explosion, not matter how well planted, that could have destroyed so much and still left that wall standing. _Nothing._'

Ironside didn't reply, he just gave a deep frown and shook his head slowly.

'Chief?' asked Mark. 'What's wrong?'

'I'm just wondering what I'll say to Ed,' Ironside replied.

'Surely it would help,' Mark asked.

'Would it help you?' said Frank. Mark had no reply and there was silence for a few moments.

'Well,' said Mark eventually, 'I would make up your mind pretty quick if I were you.' He jerked his head to the left. 'Because he's on his way over and you'd better get your story straight!'

* * *

As he approached, Ed could see Frank from the lab having a very intense conversation with the Chief. But much to his annoyance, it came to an abrupt halt as he drew close enough to hear what was being said. Then Frank turned to stare at him, in a way that Ed really, _really_ didn't like.

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence, then Frank smiled.

'I can hardly believe it, Sergeant, I can hardly believe it,' said Frank shaking his hand timidly, as if it might drop off. 'You should be dead.'

'So I've been told,' replied Ed as calmly as he could. 'Repeatedly.'

He didn't look at the Chief, he could take a good guess at the expression he'd find there, and he wasn't in the mood. Again, there was a silence that no one was willing to break, and Ed had the unpleasant feeling that somehow it was his fault.

Just when Ed felt he couldn't stand it any longer, he saw Ironside glance behind him, reacting to someone arriving. Then there was the sound of rushing footsteps, and Ed turned just in time to see the final member of Ironside's team, Officer Fran Belding hurrying along the path towards them.

Normally, Ed would have been pleased to see Fran, they were close friends as well as colleagues, but he knew her well enough to anticipate how she was going to react to his narrow escape from death.

Sure enough, as soon as she was close enough, Fran enveloped him in a brief but intense embrace then stood close at his side, gripping his uninjured arm in an overly protective way that made Ed feel worse.

'Are you alright?' she asked urgently, looking up into his eyes.

Ed nodded, biting back the cynical reply. He was so, _so_ sick of being asked that today.

Why couldn't they find something else to ask?

Fran looked at Ironside, then at Frank.

'What happened?' she asked. 'Do you know? Do you have much to go on?'

'We're still not sure,' Frank said, though from the way he glanced down to the Chief, and the Chief looked back, Ed guessed _that_ statement was a barefaced lie. Ironside was quick to fill in the gap.

'What do you have for me, Ed?' asked Ironside.

'I've found a few of names, and a few places to check out, Chief,' he said, aware that Fran was staring at his sling and the cuts on his face.

'Good, go with Fran and make a start,' Ironside said. 'You can…'

'With _Fran_?' interrupted Ed angrily. 'I don't need help, Chief! I _am_ capable of handling this myself!'

'Well, that's a nice way treat your colleague!' retorted Fran.

But Ironside was glaring at him, a thunderous scowl on his face.

'_You_ are not even supposed to be here, Sergeant Brown!' the Chief said sternly. 'You are only here by my good will, so I suggest you stop acting like a spoiled child.'

Ed pursed his lips, and looked away to the ground. The Chief was right, damn him!

'I'm sorry, Fran,' he muttered, forcing himself to make eye contact with her. 'That wasn't fair.'

She nodded, keeping a firm hold of his arm. Ed was grateful for the gesture and he gave her a small smile.

'Don't worry about it,' she said. 'Let's just get on and get this over with.'

Ed noticed the look that Fran gave the Chief as they walked off, but decided against saying anything. Instead, he walked next to her towards the other side of the campus.

He had worried that he would face more questions when they were alone, but Fran wasted no time getting on with the job in hand. They knocked on doors and spoke to people, but it passed in something of a blur to Ed, and he let Fran do most of the talking. Most of his energy was used up in keeping his temper under control and ignoring the strange looks and the whispers that followed him everywhere they went.

In the second building they checked, and the fifth name, they had success.

It was one of the older parts of the campus, with narrow corridors and high ceilings. The students had tried to brighten the place up with paintings and pictures, but there was still an old, oppressive feel that seemed to rise up from the floorboards.

They spent a number of minutes walking along the maze of corridors, until they finally reached the correct room. Fran knocked and the door was opened by a pretty young blonde who let them both inside after she'd seen Ed's badge.

Ed slowly looked around the room, not listening as Fran started to explain why they were there. But a picture on one of the tables attracted Ed's attention. He went over to look at it, picking it up from where it had been set and stared at it, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

He'd found her. The name on his list that went with the room was Katie Marshall. The dead girl had a name.

The full and terrible understanding of what had happened hit him so hard he almost fell. For a while it had been easier to believe that he'd imagined the whole thing; that he would have filled his time with a fruitless search, and gone back to Ironside and admit he _must_ have been wrong and this was just his imagination. But it had really happened. He had lived while she had died…

'Ed?' asked Fran, her voice breaking into his thoughts. 'Ed? Are you ok?'

'That's her,' he said, his voice unexpectedly weak. 'That's the one. I'm certain.'

'What do you want Katie for?' the roommate asked, looking between them and giving Ed a very odd look. 'What's happened? What's she done?'

'We just want to make sure she's alright,' Fran replied lightly. 'Where is she? Has she been back here since yesterday?'

The roommate shook her head.

'Haven't seen her, but then she keeps strange hours. She's often with the guys down in the Bar Room.'

'Bar Room?'

'Yeah, that's what they call it. Kinda like a club. They do weird stuff, not illegal, though,' she added quickly.

'Can I take this photograph?' Ed asked.

'Well…yeah, suppose,' the roommate replied warily. 'Look, is Katie alright? She's not in trouble again is she?'

Ed looked at Fran, not able to say anything comforting, his mind filled with the image of this girl only seconds before she died. It was almost as if he could feel the heat from the fireball again, and hear the endless scream…

'We don't know,' he heard Fran say. 'We just need to find her. Do you know where she is?'

The girl still looked worried. She staring at Ed, and at the sling and the cuts on his face, then an expression of understand suddenly spread across her face, a look that made Ed want to recoil.

'I thought they made it up,' she said, looking at him. 'It's all over the campus that someone was there. And someone survived in that building. It was you?'

Ed scowled, but forced himself to nod.

'Too wild!' she said, looking him up and down. 'Just too wild!'

'Look,' Ed snapped. 'We need to find this girl, so instead of staring at me, would you be cooperative and answer the question?'

'Gee, sorry!' she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. 'But I really don't know where she could be. But if it's real bad, you could ask Tim. He's her ex, but they still hung out in the same crowd.'

'Where can we find him?' Fran asked.

'He should have been at the Kingston Building this morning. But I guess he would still be in his rooms.'

She gave them the address, and they headed straight over.

Fran tried to start a conversation once, but Ed made a point of not replying, and she quickly got the idea that he didn't want to talk and they walked together in uneasy silence. Fortunately, the address wasn't far and within a few minutes, they were at the correct door.

Once again, Fran knocked, and a dark-haired, rather arrogant-looking young man opened it. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and an unfriendly expression on his face. Ed knew the conversation was all going to go wrong the moment he set eyes on the man.

'It's because of that explosion, isn't it,' Tim asked immediately he saw Ed's badge. 'I knew it. I knew it! I knew they'd try something stupid like that.' He glared at Ed. 'Well, you're not getting any names out of me. I know my rights, pig!'

Ed was used to the insult, but today it seemed to be more cutting. He took a step forward, towering over the youth by at least six inches. Fran caught his arm.

'We are looking for Katie Marshall,' she said. 'Do you know where she could be?'

'Have you tried her room?' Tim replied sarcastically.

'Her roommate said to ask you.'

Tim gave a laugh.

'Poppy's just that sort of girl, isn't she! Get someone else to do the dirty deed.'

'What dirty deed?' asked Ed

'Don't play games with me, pig. You want me to shop them!'

A snarl suddenly appeared on Ed's face.

'Call me that name again, and I'll put you through that wall!' he growled.

'_Ed_!' said Fran.

Shaking, he glared at Fran, and then Tim. Then the anger passed and he took a small step back.

'Man, far out! What's with you?' Tim asked, in a loud, unsubtle voice.

'We're just looking for Katie Marshall,' replied Fran.

Ed leaned forward, and plucked the photograph from Fran's hand.

'I saw this girl in the Kingston Building,' he said, his voice deliberately harsh. 'And I _have_ to find her.'

Tim looked at him in shock.

'You? _You_ saw her? That means that you were there?' Realisation seemed to dawn on Tim, and he looked at the sling with wide eyes. 'You were the one that walked out of there!'

Ed felt his anger rising once more. The novelty had worn off, and it was getting harder to respond politely with every time it was mentioned.

'Yeah, I am,' he snapped. 'So what?'

'Bad trip, man!' said Tim, staring at him with a new air of interest. 'Wow, fancy surviving something like th…'

Ed's breath caught in his chest, and overwhelming feeling of fear and anger and guilt rushed through him. It took every ounce of his self-control to stop himself lashing out. He had to get away.

Before Tim could finish his sentence, Ed turned on his heel and walked straight out of the doorway, unable to resist the need to slam the outer door shut on the way.

* * *

A/N - Sorry for the delay, but I get there in the end!


	5. Breaking Point

Chapter 5

Breaking Point

Ironside sat at the edge of the debris field in the shadow of the broken building, hunched forward in his chair and watching people as they came to gawp. Frank had gone back to the lab, leaving a few men in hard hats to go through some of the wreckage. There was the idle growl of heavy lifting equipment as well, and Ironside knew that everyone was keen to get the site tidied up. But no one was moving.

They were waiting for the go ahead to get on with the job, and Ironside was aware of the curious and annoyed looks he was getting from some of the workforce.

He still said nothing.

It seemed pointless to wait, and a needless waste of manpower and resources. And under other circumstances, he wouldn't have done. Other than Ed's word, there was no evidence that there was anything wrong, not criminally wrong anyway. Kingston was anxious to get this moved.

At his side, Mark shifted uneasily.

'Something wrong, Mark?' he asked eventually.

'I was going to say the same thing to you,' Mark replied. 'Why are we just hanging around?' Ironside didn't respond. 'You do believe Ed? Don't you?'

'If I believe Ed, that means there are the remains of a girl scattered around here,' Ironside said heavily. He looked around at the devastated building, aware that Mark was doing the exact same thing.

'What if they don't find her?' Mark asked.

Ironside drew a deep breath. _What if they didn't find her?_ If that happened, it was going to raise other, even more worrying questions!

'What if's aren't going to get us any answers, Mr Sanger,' he said, his voice taking on a sharp edge. 'So we'll start with Kingston. _If_ we can find him.'

'What about all this?' asked Mark, gesturing at the people.

'They know how to _wait_!'

'And what about Ed and Fran?'

'We can leave a message at the van,' Ironside replied.

Mark knew when a decision had been made, and he pushed Ironside slowly around and headed off towards their vehicle. But as they drew close the Chief saw someone else there, waiting. It took only a moment before he recognised who it was: Ed Brown.

He was at the back, sitting hunched forward on the bumper, his head propped up with one hand, his eyes half-closed.

As Ironside drew close, he saw Ed take a shuddering breath, and stared pointedly at the ground, though the Chief could tell that Ed knew they were there.

'You were right,' the sergeant eventually said with an angry edge to his tone. 'There, I've said it. It was a bad idea coming here. I should have just gone home.' Ironside regarded his colleague in silence, waiting for him to speak again. Ed's mouth was a thin line, his frown much deeper than it usually was, and he kept looking downwards 'Everyone keeps looking at me as if I'm some kind of walking miracle. It's really, _really_ getting on my nerves.'

Suddenly, Ed looked up straight into Ironside's eyes.

'You don't need to say I told you so, Chief.' His tone was bitter, and Ironside couldn't find anything to say that would help. Instead, he nodded.

Behind him, Ironside sensed Mark shift uncomfortably. He turned to look at his aide.

'Mark?'

'Seems as if Fran's had some luck,' said Mark, gesturing over his shoulder.

Ironside looked around the way Mark was pointing, and saw Fran on her way over with a young man, about twenty or so beside her. Ed said nothing and gave no explanation as to why he wasn't with Fran, so Ironside waited for them to approach. The young man was dark-haired with a thin face, and a constant curve to his eyebrows and top lip, as if he was looking down on everything.

'Chief, this is Tim Montgomery,' Fran said, stopping beside the Chief wheelchair. Ironside held out his hand and Tim shook it, but Ed looked up at the boy with no friendliness at all.

'I think you'll want to hear what he has to say,' said Fran. 'Both of you will.'

Tim moved, trying to attract Ed's attention.

'Hey man, I didn't mean to get under your skin like that. It's just, well, it's not every day you get to meet… well, you know.'

Ed didn't keep looking at the boy as he spoke, but gave a short, brusque nod. The Chief watched the exchange with growing anxiety. Had Ed _stormed off_?

'So, what do you have to tell us?' Ironside asked, making a deliberate attempt to distract everyone's attention away from Ed.

Fran passed him over a picture of a pretty young girl with long brown hair and a fun-loving, bright smile.

'That's Katie Marshall,' she said. 'That's the girl Ed saw.' Ironside looked at Ed, who was back staring at the ground, as if he wasn't listening. 'Tim was her boyfriend.'

'Ex boyfriend,' said the young man quickly. 'We split up a few weeks ago.'

'Have you seen her today?' Ironside asked.

Tim shook his head.

'Look, has something happened to Katie?' he asked. 'I wanna know if it has. I've got a right to know.'

Ironside frowned.

'We're not sure. But it is possible that she was involved in the explosion. And it's also possible that she might be dead because of it.'

There was a long silence. Tim looked stricken, it was look Ironside knew well, he had seen it on enough bereaved people in his long career.

'We need to know when you saw her last.'

Tim visibly pulled himself together.

'I haven't seen her since yesterday evening, about ten,' he said in a shaky voice. 'She dropped round to see me at my rooms, she said there was something going down at the Kingston Building and she had to go check it out. She wanted me to go to. She was kinda keyed up about it. Unhappy. Worried. But she was often like that.'

'Why didn't you go?' Ironside asked. 'Or why didn't you try and talk her out of it?'

'You wouldn't ask that if you knew Katie,' Tim said with a shake of his head. 'She couldn't be talked out of anything, even if she knew it was a bad idea.'

'And why didn't you go with her?'

Tim sighed.

'Look, man, it's just not my bag any more. It's done. It's over. I didn't want to. That's all.'

'Did she say what was happening?'

'She didn't need to. Stuff was going on at the Kingston Building, she was never clear about exactly what. But that place has a bad rep with some of the students. They were real picky about who they let in, and when, and why. There were always rumours, you know, Gordon Kingston is always on the look out for extra cash, same with the Professors. But recently there were more than usual, since he came back.' Tim frowned, as if he was unsure about continuing. 'And Katie, she didn't like it. She had a loud mouth and a strong will, and she wasn't afraid. She wanted to do something about it all, y'know. She wanted to blow the whistle on all that stuff. She had a real hang up about that. She wanted to show them it was wrong.'

Tim stopped talking and pursed his lips, looking from left to right. There was silence for a few moments, then Ironside leaned forward in his chair.

'If you know anything about what happened, you have to tell us, Tim. We have to find out what happened to Katie, and why. You can help us do that.'

Tim still looked worried.

'We're going to find out eventually, Tim. But I'd rather find out sooner that later. We have more important things to do, and you could save us a great deal of time. Don't you think Katie would have wanted you to help us? If there was something wrong, if there was something illegal…?'

Ironside let the question hang, confident that Tim would tell them what they needed to know.

The boy drew a deep breath.

'Katie, she wasn't doing well,' he said. 'She was close to dropping out, she wasn't cut out for study and she got involved with some sort of political group. She'd turned herself into a protester, a radical. She'd been to marches, rallies, all sorts of stuff. She really thrived on it. But over the past years she was getting into more _direct_ action. It was getting too far out for me. I didn't want to go around sabotaging stuff and getting into trouble. I just wanted to get my degree and get on with life. And… we argued. Kinda a lot.' Tim stopped talking with a sigh.

'So why did she could round to see you last night?' Ironside asked. 'If you weren't involved in anything?'

'She was real high last night, I mean _really_,' Tim said. 'I'd never see her like that before. When she said she had to blow the whistle on them, I thought she was just blowing steam.'

'How did she know?' asked Fran. 'Did she tell you?'

'I don't know for sure, but my guess would be the Bar Club. Most rumours start there. All the gossip, that's where it's at.'

'Thank you, Tim,' said Ironside.

Once more, Tim moved closer to Ed, who had remained uncharacteristically silent and withdrawn through the whole conversation.

'Hey man, I hope you're ok,' he said.

This time, Ed looked up, a doleful expression on his face.

'Thanks,' he murmured.

Tim looked back to Ironside.

'Let me know what happened? Please?' he asked. 'If anything bad has happened to Katie, I really want to know.'

Ironside nodded.

'And if we need you're help again, we'll be in touch,' he said.

'Sure.'

They watched Tim walk away. The Chief gave a huff, looking around at his staff.

'Well, Chief?' asked Fran at last. 'What do you think? It ties in, doesn't it?'

Ironside didn't answer as he was looking at Ed, who was still ignoring them.

'Chief?' repeated Fran. 'What do you think?'

'What do I think, Officer Belding?' he replied. 'I think we need to have a good long talk with Gordon Kingston. And I think someone needs to go _home_.'

At the final word, Ed reacted and met Ironside's gaze. His expression was slightly glazed, as if he had not been listening.

'I can't. I can't leave,' he said. 'I can't stop half way through!'

'No one said anything about stopping,' replied Ironside in a reasonable tone. 'But you've got to get some rest. Take the rest of the day off and…'

'I can't just go home, Chief!' Ed retorted angrily. 'I can't!'

Ironside scowled at him, shifting his weight forward and hunching his shoulders, as if squaring up to fight.

'Now you listen to me, _Sergeant_ Brown,' he said loudly. 'You were only here at my discretion, don't make me regret it now!'

'Do you think th…?'

'Ed!' interrupted Ironside sharply. 'Ed, I am just suggesting to go home and get some sleep. I am not taking you off the case.'

'Yes, but…'

'And there _are_ other competent police officers involved. And we will keep you informed.'

This time, Ed didn't try to say anything. He looked at Ironside in silence. Then, with a second's hesitation, he nodded.

'Ok, Chief,' he said. 'You win. I'll go.'

Ironside put his hand on Ed's shoulder.

'Believe me, Ed, I understand what it's like to think you're not involved in something you should be involved in,' he said with real feeling, 'and that people are trying to keep you out. But you need to get some sleep, and you'll be all the better for it. Tomorrow is another day. We'll need you.'

Ed nodded, then looked slowly to where his crushed car was, still sitting where he had parked it that morning, covered in a thin layer of ash and dust, with its front windscreen blown in and the hood bent and twisted out of shape, adorned with a block of stone. Ironside followed his gaze with a heavy heart. The sooner Ed was out of here the better, as far as the Chief was concerned.

'And just how am I going to get home?' Ed asked.

The Chief smiled and looked round to Mark, pleased that Ed appeared more calm.

'So Mark, how would you like to give Ed a lift?' Ironside asked.

'Sure,' Mark replied with a grin.

There was a pause before Ed stood, and together he and Mark moved towards the front of the van.

'Mark, when you get back, take a walk around, see what the word is in campus,' Ironside said.

'Sure, Chief. See you later.'

With that, Mark climbed in, banged the door closed and started the van's engine. Fran helped Ironside wheel his chair back, out of their way, and stood by his side as they watched the van reverse and pull away from the building.

The van had barely disappeared around the corner when Fran spoke.

'So what is it that you didn't want to say in front of Ed?' she asked.

Ironside looked up at her, an expression of mild surprise on his face.

'Don't give me that look, Chief,' she said. ' I know you too well.'

Ironside would have smiled at her, except he didn't feel like smiling at all.

'C'mon Chief, tell me.'

Ironside looked up at Fran, but his expression was sad.

'Ed saw that girl die,' he said. 'And sooner or later, once the shock has worn off, he's going to feel the guilt kicking in. Having to work on this case at the same time is going to cause problems.'

Fran shook her head, confusion on her face.

'But surely he knows there was nothing he could do,' replied Fran. She looked back to where the van had been, an anxious expression on her face. 'He must know.'

Ironside looked back up at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. She knew, but didn't want to believe it either.

'You can see it on his face,' Ironside said, 'and his every move.'

Fran paused, and even before she spoke, Ironside knew what she was going to say.

'What if Ed had died too?' she asked.

Ironside drew a deep breath. Ed was a close friend as well as a colleague and a good policeman. They faced death on the streets every day, and he hadn't died, not this time. This time he'd had a very lucky, and unlikely escape. But instead, Ed Brown was heading for very difficult waters.

'Let's not waste any more time worrying,' he said, too harshly for his own liking. 'Let's speak to Gordon Kingston.'

* * *

It was clear to Ed that Mark wasn't pleased about his new assignment, he'd learned his friend's moods well over the previous few years. Mark made no attempt at small talk, or any other kind of talk either and, for once, Ed didn't make any effort to change the situation.

Instead, he sat in the front seat of the van, looking out of the side window, feeling his anger and discomfort growing less the farther he got away from the Kingston Building.

After about twenty-five minutes of slow driving they turned onto Ed's street and Mark brought the van to a halt.

'Thanks,' murmured Ed, opening the door.

'Hey, man, you gonna be cool?' mark asked.

How could so simple a question be so hard to answer? For a moment, Ed couldn't reply. He couldn't move. He couldn't breath. He couldn't speak. The feeling passed and somehow he managed a half-nod.

'Ed, if you need to…'

'I'll be fine,' interrupted Ed. But Mark didn't believe him, Ed could see that _very_ clearly, so instead of waiting around for the third degree, he slid himself out of the van with a quick wave, and swung the door shut before Mark could say anything else.

Much to his relief, Mark waited for just a few moments before pulling away and Ed didn't watch the van leave. Instead, he walked up to the door and let himself into his apartment.

Slowly, he looked around, seeing everything exactly how he had left it that morning; the chair slightly squint, the empty coffee cup on the table and the barely-glanced-at newspaper. It looked both mundane and surprising, and Ed frowned.

Slowly, he pulled out the bottle of painkillers he'd been given by the doctor out of his pocket, where they had been sitting all afternoon. He hadn't taken any, not because his arm wasn't sore, as it was, but because he feared they would make him sleepy.

And he couldn't afford to be lower than his best, not at the moment. He needed to be sharp. He didn't want to sleep and rest while the others were working. He wanted to be busy, so he didn't have the chance to think about what happened. He didn't want to have to think about how close he'd come to death.

His mind stalled at that thought, and his breath catching in the back of his throat. They had been saying it to him all day: he should be dead.

Then the moment passed. He was used to death, he was a policeman, after all, and he'd been a Marine Sergeant and seen action in Vietnam; he'd nearly been killed twice out there, the second time he'd caught some shrapnel and been sent home. People then kept on telling him how lucky he'd been and he hadn't liked it then either. But more that that, he faced death on the streets of San Francisco every day; and he carried a gun to work every day, and he knew death could be around the next corner or just a phone call away. He knew it. He accepted it.

Ed drew a long, deep breath. Though he glanced in the direction of his small kitchen, he ignored the option of food. He couldn't stomach the thought of eating anything at that moment.

Instead, he went to the bureau by the window and got the bottle of scotch down from the top left-hand corner and a high-ball glass. His hand shaking slightly, he poured himself a generous double measure, then took it through to his bedroom, even though it was only late afternoon.

There wasn't much left to do. He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed and pulled the bottle of pills out from his pocket, giving it a short shake. Deliberately not thinking about it too much, he took two out and swallowed them, washing them down with the whole glass of alcohol, taking long gulps of the alcohol.

Then, without even bothering to change out of his clothes, Ed lay back and closed his eyes, praying that he'd be asleep quickly.

* * *

A/N Next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks.


	6. Back To Basics

Chapter 6

Back To Basics

Ironside and Fran were welcomed at Kingston's office by his pretty young secretary who greeted them at the door.

'Oh, yes, Mr Kingston said he was expecting you,' she said, when Ironside introduced himself. She moved over and picked up the phone on her desk.

'Mr Kingston, Mr Ironside is here for you now.' There was the muffled sound of talking from the other end.

'He's just finishing up with someone else,' she said, replacing the handset. 'It will only take a few moments.'

The two of them waited in silence for Kingston to appear. Ironside couldn't be sure what Fran was thinking about, but he could take a pretty shrewd guess that Ed Brown was the most likely cause of her worried frown. Fran naturally fretted about all of her colleagues, but this time even Ironside had to agree her fears were probably justified. Not that he regretted being blunt with her earlier, Ed was certainly headed for trouble, but they all needed to keep on with their job. It was the only way to help Ed at the moment.

The secretary returned to her work, and Ironside looked around the office. Modern and up-to-date furniture, expensive too, by the looks of it; a couple of oil paintings of landscapes that Ironside didn't recognise; plain red carpet; plain red curtains, and a view out over the campus, although the Kingston Building itself, or rather, its remains, were out of sight.

About five minutes passed, then the door to his office opened and Gordon Kingston popped his head round.

'Come in, Chief,' he said cheerfully. Ironside hid his surprise, the last time he had seen Kingston, the other man hadn't been anywhere close to _cheerful _and the unexpected change made him wary.

Ironside pushed himself forward, Fran following behind. Inside, Kingston shook the Chief's hand once more, as Ironside took a quick glance around. It was just the same as outside, modern and orderly and red.

'And who is this delightful young lady?' Kingston asked, taking Fran's hand.

'Officer Belding,' she replied.

Kingston cast an amused look at the Chief.

'What charming company you keep, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'I take it you have had a good look round and everything is in order. I've already been in contact with a few firms, I don't want to waste any more time on reconstruction than I have to. Since no one was hurt, thanks to some miracle your sergeant was unhurt, there's no reason to delay.'

'Well,' started the Chief, with a frown. 'I'm afraid it isn't quite as simple as it first looked...'

Gordon Kingston's face changed immediately to a thunderous glare, the cheerful facade vanishing.

'What the blazes do you mean, not simple!' he growled. 'I don't have to remind you just who has more expertise in the field of explosions? And I know what I saw!'

At that moment, Ironside was thinking about Frank, the lab technician he had spoken to earlier. Frank had been extremely unhappy about the whole situation.

'Our own experts are not as sure as you are,' he said.

'Your experts just look for trouble where there is none!' Kingston snapped, going to stand behind his desk. 'Having that building like that is going to cost me a fortune! I have to get it fixed up. I'm loosing money by the truck-load with every minute delay.'

'It's _still_ a crime scene,' said the Chief. 'You can't touch it without my say so. And I'm _not_ going to say so until I'm convinced that we've everything we need.'

'A crime scene!' retorted Kingston in surprise. 'What _are_ you talking about?'

'There was the call to the police this morning. Someone reported a robbery.'

'Robbery! Ha!' Kingston flicked his head back and gave a derisive little snort.

'And we have some reason to believe that the building wasn't as empty as you think it was.

Kingston's expression changed to incredulity.

'Don't be ridiculous!' he said. 'I know what goes on in my own building!'

'The doors were open. How else did you think Sergeant Brown got inside?'

That made Kingston pause, but just for a moment.

'Well there is obviously a reasonable explanation,' he said.

'Which is?' When Kingston made no immediate answer, Ironside continued. 'These are questions that need answers. You see why the case is still very much open?'

'I do see,' said Kingston, the words sounded like they had to be squeezed out of his mouth, his lips barely moving.

'And I have a few _more_ questions. I want to know what kind of research was going on in your lab.'

Though the other man tried hard to disguise it, Ironside noted the narrowing of his eyes and the fleeting look of worry that crossed the man's face.

'I'm afraid I can't tell you,' Kingston said.

'Don't you know?' retorted Ironside, with mock incredulity. 'I don't believe you don't know what is going on in your own laboratory!'

'Of course I know what's going on!' Kingston snapped.

'So it's not that you can't tell me, it's that you won't,' replied Ironside.

'I can't tell you everything,' he said. 'I'm not allowed to do that.'

There was a pointed silence, but Ironside had already guessed, from the conversation with Tim Montgomery, that there was some sort of _Governmental_ involvement. Why else would the radical and provocative Katie Marshall have been so keen on getting inside?

'I will need to see everything you can show me, and I'll need to know who was working on what.'

Kingston did not look pleased, but he did nod.

'I'll get the information to you as quickly as I can.'

'I want it by tomorrow morning,' said Ironside firmly. Being in this office, having this conversation with Kingston suddenly made the Chief feel uncomfortable. He could sense plans within plans, campus politics and personal agendas. He had to get them to unravel, the sooner the better.

'Really!' replied Kingston, his forehead furrowed in fury.

'This morning, you were the one that was complaining about us not moving fast enough,' Ironside told him. 'The sooner I get what I want, the sooner we can get this all cleared up, which is what we both want.'

There was a pause, then Ironside leaned forward in his chair.

'This is urgent,' he said quietly.

Kingston's nod of agreement was less enthusiastic than the Chief had hoped, but at least there was some sort of agreement. With a nod of acknowledgement, Ironside looked up at Fran.

'Let's get on with it, Officer Belding,' he said. Fran knew her cue, and moved to grip the handles of his wheelchair, giving them a small push to help it move. With a quick glance at Gordon Kingston, Ironside propelled himself out of the office, Fran just a step behind him.

They moved in silence out of the building, but once outside Fran spoke.

'Why do you want this so quickly, Chief?' she asked. 'Is something wrong? Something else?'

'I don't like any of this, not one little bit,' he said gruffly, his wheelchair rumbling along the uneven path towards the road. 'If it hadn't been for Ed's presence there, by chance, I might add, the case would be shut and that would be that!'

She nodded.

'And Mr Kingston?'

Ironside grunted.

'Chief?'

Ironside didn't respond. He was thinking about his next move, the information he wanted to get and where he was going to get it. They were going to be very busy with legwork for the next twenty-four hours.

_And I'm a man down_, he thought sourly.

Fran was waiting patiently for his reply, but further on, close to the other end of the path, Ironside saw the van pull up on the road a short way ahead of him. He tried to speed up, but the squint flagstone made it impossible.

Mark emerged from the driver's side, his face unreadable. That wasn't good.

'Tell me,' Ironside demanded as soon as they were close enough to speak.

'It's not looking good, man,' Mark muttered, leaning back against the door of the van. 'He hardly said a word. He's not acting like himself at all.'

Ironside's scowl grew deeper. He hated being right all the time. Mark could be relied on to give a good assessment of Ed's state of mind, they'd known each other for years now, they were good friends, in spite of a few ups and downs. Part of the Chief had hoped that, away from the Kingston Buildings and away from the devastation and the bad memories, Ed would have seemed more in control.

There were pieces, that's all they had at the moment. Somehow they had to pull the fragments together and make some sort of whole, but even now Ironside knew that there was at least one very big piece missing.

They had to find it. And they were going to work until they did, even if it took all night.

'What are we going to do?' Fran asked.

Ironside scowled.

'Get on with our flamin' job!' he snapped.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE - so, here we go again. :) I do promise not to make you wait so long for the next update.

And a very big thank you to Realmlife for the Beta-reading on this one, and pointing out the stuff I'd forgotten about.


	7. Jackpot

Chapter 7

Jackpot

_There is a pretty girl in his dream. She is standing in a brightly lit room, looking towards him with a calm expression, But she's not smiling. She is just standing there. Looking. Waiting. _

_Ed stands close by, watching her._

_He doesn't move. It feels like he can't. He's fixed in place, unable to move if he wanted to._

_They look at each other. Then there is a waft of smoke, the smell of burning tar and oil fills his nose, and he fights the urge to be sick. The overwhelming smell fills his nose and down the back of his throat, the taste is like blood mixed with vinegar_

_His vision tilts to one side, sliding out of focus._

_Only now does the girl move. Through the blur Ed sees her lifts her arms. The left one is missing below the elbow, and blood streams from the wound. Her face is red against the dark of the paintwork behind, her orange top was streaked with her own blood._

_Ed wants to take a step towards her, to warn her, to help her, to try and do _something_ to save her. But he can't move. Something is stopping him from moving. The smell increases in strength, and he feels it burning the back of his throat as he tries to breathe. Something is holding him down. _

_The girl is gone._

_With no warning a billowing flame erupts from his left, and somewhere far away, there is the dull blare of an alarm…_

Ed woke with a start, his heart pounding as if he had just run the full length of a football field at top speed, and drenched in sweat.

His telephone was ringing.

For a few more seconds, he still couldn't move, fixed to the bed with fear and shock, the smell still in his nostrils, and nausea threatening to overwhelm him. His body ached much, much more than yesterday. He'd never have believed he could ache so much, not even in Vietnam had he ever felt like this.

But the phone kept on ringing, and ringing and ringing. Only one man would have persisted like that, so Ed levered himself over onto his side and made a grab for the telephone.

'Brown,' he slurred. The clock by his bed showed it was just after six in the morning, and Ed suppressed a shiver. Why would the Chief be calling so early? What had happened? He hadn't anticipated that more things would go wrong.'What's wrong?'

'Ed!' Of course it was the Chief, and he sounded anxious.

'What's wrong?' repeated Ed, a spike of panic starting in his chest. The Chief wouldn't call this early unless there was something really wrong.

'I was just wondering if you were alright,' said the Chief.

'You woke me at six to ask that!' replied Ed, sounding a lot more angry than he'd meant to.

'Six? No! Ed, it's just about half past noon.'

'What?' Ed looked back to his clock, this time seeing the hands the correct way round. He stared at it for a few moments before slowly leaning forward and resting his aching head in his free hand. He'd never overslept before.

'Chief, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I'm on my way.'

'Take it easy, Ed,' Ironside started to say.

'No, I'm on my w…'

'Sergeant Brown!' Ironside said sharply. 'There's no need to rush. Mark and I will be there to pick you up in about an hour. It's on _our_ way.'

Ed was silent for a few seconds. Arguing with the Chief was never easy, and though Ed rarely backed out of a confrontation, he didn't feel able to try and change Ironside's mind. Besides, he could do with a lift.

'Yeah Chief. Thanks,' he mumbled. His car was currently out of commission, and he couldn't drive with his strained arm, even if he wanted to.

'We have a lot to catch up on,' said the Chief. 'I'll need your help.'

'Sure, Chief.' He was pleased at the words, but somehow Ed couldn't help feeling that the Chief was just saying that to try and cheer him up.

'We'll be there in a hour,' Ironside reminded him. The phone clicked.

Ed replaced the receiver, and rolled slowly back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. In truth, the very last thing he wanted to do at the moment was go anywhere, and do _anything_. The memory of his nightmare was still fresh and as vivid as it had been while he was dreaming. He didn't want to think about it, but somehow he couldn't help it. He had let that girl down. He was a cop; he was supposed to be there to protect people. He'd never missed anything like that before. How had he missed the signs? How? It was his job to know the signs of danger, he had to know to keep alive on the streets of the city. How could he have made such a big mistake?

He knew what Ironside, or Fran, or Mark would say: that he'd done everything he could. But that didn't help.

Eventually, he forced himself to struggle out of bed. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, and he stripped off, dumping the dusty clothes in the laundry, noticing for the first time the mess and the grim and the thin lines of dry blood on his once-white shirt. Then he showered, feeling the bruises on his body rather than seeing them. He stood in the shower, the hot water running over him, staring at the wall, trying to understand.

_How had he survived?_

He had tried to avoid thinking about that. How come he had gotten up off the floor and walked out, when that girl had been blown to pieces and virtually vaporised?

How had that happened?

He'd no idea that there was something that powerful, and that specific. It was impossible. It seemed impossible. Had he imagined the whole thing?

Time passed in fits and starts, and Ed suddenly realised he'd been standing still in the shower for over half and hour and the water was cold. Forcing himself to focus, he was out of the shower, dried and dressed in about ten minutes, and fixing his gun securely on his belt before replacing his arm in its sling.

It wasn't the first time he'd had doubts about his chosen profession. He'd always wanted to be a policeman, he'd made up his mind for sure by the time he was discharged from the Marines. He'd never thought he'd be lucky enough, or good enough, to get to work with the Chief of Detectives in San Francisco, Robert T Ironside. And he was proud of his work. Until yesterday.

How could he see it as anything but a failure? That girl was dead because he was too _slow_.

A fresh pang of guilt swept over him. Somewhere, out in the world, her parents were probably still alive, waiting for a call from their little girl. Somewhere, they would be worrying, and waiting. He could imagine her father, pacing the floor by the telephone, her mother sitting on the settee close by, twisting her hands with worry.

But their little girl was never going to call again. Instead, the police were going to knock on the door, and they were going to tell them that she was dead, and that he'd failed to keep her safe. How was he ever going to live with that failure?

There was a sharp knock at the door, and Ed suddenly moved, looking around at the clock. It was well over an hour since Ironside had called. Where had the time gone?

He moved as swiftly to the door, yanking it open. Mark was there, looking anxious.

'Hey, man!' he said. 'Chief sent me up. You cool?'

It took a great deal of Ed's self-control not to reply with an unpleasant remark. He nodded slightly.

'You know, man, you don't look cool,' said Mark.

'Thanks!' snapped Ed. 'That's just what I needed to hear at the moment.'

Mark and Ed usually got on well, not counting all the times Ed had run him in and locked him up in the days before he worked for the Chief and was still a small-time hood on the streets. But, just for a moment, Ed felt like taking a swing at him. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his anger under some sort of control.

'Look, man, we've gotta go. We can't keep the Chief waiting, you know what he's like!'

Mark smiled in a warm way, and Ed found himself smiling back, the simmering anger fading as quickly as it had grown.

'Sure.'

* * *

Ironside said nothing as Ed climbed into the van in the front, beside Mark.

He looked much, much worse than he had the day before. He was pale, his normally perfect hairstyle was slightly ruffled, his tie was squint under the sling and there was a nervous, almost shaky edge to his outward demeanour.

Ironside frowned.

He needed Ed Brown: Mark was a good aide, but he wasn't a cop. Fran was a good cop, but she wasn't as good as Ed; she didn't have Ed's experience, and she didn't have Ed's nerve either.

This case had begun to get complicated. He needed his staff at their peak. But looking at Ed Brown this afternoon, Ironside doubted for a moment if he would ever be at his peak again. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again just as quickly. There was nothing to be gained by saying anything at the moment.

There was silence in the van, and not a particularly companionable one at that.

'Where are we going now?' asked Mark, turned to look at Ironside as he spoke.

'Frank wants to see us,' said Ironside.

'He's not at the Lab?'

'No,' said Ironside. 'He's at the Kingston Building, with _all_ of his staff I might add. He wanted us all there too.'

Ironside saw Ed's shoulders lift, then fall. He was sure they were shaking as well.

They drove in silence, whether Ed was uncomfortable with it, Ironside couldn't tell. Ironside himself was uncomfortable, worry about his sergeant aside as, on the telephone, Frank had sounded most unhappy about something. And Frank was not the sort of man to ever get unhappy about his job.

They arrived at the Kingston Building, and Mark parked the van. The area was less of a mess than it had been the day before. Already there had been some work to clear up the debris, and workmen were still busy. Ed's smashed up Ford had been towed away, for which Ironside was extremely grateful. There were a number of people milling around, more than there had been the day before. By the time the Chief had extracted himself from the van, he had spotted Frank by the back wall, talking to a young woman in a yellow hard hat. After only a moment's pause, he started to roll himself forward, with Mark taking up the strain by pushing behind. Ed was silent at his side. Ironside made a conscious effort not to watch Ed all the time, trying to give the other man some space.

Frank came towards them as soon as they started moving, walking over the precariously balanced bits of masonry with the ease of a man who knew his way around a bomb site.

'Afternoon, Chief,' he said, nodding at both Mark and Ed.

'What do you have for us, Frank?' Ironside asked, glaring up at the other man. 'Good or not good?'

Frank gave his usual non-committal shrug, but no smile.

'That depends on what you mean by good.'

'You don't have to be evasive,' said Ironside gruffly. 'I want to know what you've found.'

Frank shrugged again.

'Nothing.'

'_What_!' Ed spoke with a surprising amount of anger in his voice, and Ironside turned to look up at his Sergeant in surprise.

'We've had the whole area searched by our top teams, and no one found anything that is even close to being from a human body. No clothes. No remains. Nothing.'

A snarl had formed on Ed's lip but he appeared to be struggling to start the next sentence. Ironside made sure he never got the chance to say whatever it was, as it was going to be something he would eventually regret!

'Sergeant Brown!'

Ironside's voice made Ed jerk round, and for a moment Ironside could see the confusion, panic and anger in the other man's eyes. Then a moment later, it was gone. Ironside looked back at Frank, who was eyeing Ed with suspicion.

'Frank, what is going on?'

'We've not found anything like you asked us to look for,' Frank said, frowning at Ironside. 'And if it was anyone else but you, Chief, you'd have a lot of explaining to do to the Commissioner. But...' He left the word hanging for a moment, as he glanced at the scattered remains of the building behind him. 'We found something else, something a lot worse.'

Ironside shifted forward in his seat, waiting for more.

'The explosion wasn't possible.' Frank looked at Ed again, this time with confusion. 'We've proved that. What happened here can't have happened.'

'But it did happen,' said Ironside, pointing to the fractured building. 'That certainly happened!'

'I know,' said Frank shaking his head. 'That's my problem. The only solution is that there was a whole new kind of explosive being used. And I'm at a loss.'

'I don't see what's wrong,' said Mark.

'Explosions are symmetrical. You set off a bomb and you get a round crater, yes?'

Mark nodded.

'Ok, in a building, you've got walls and things and furniture to get in the way, but it is still symmetrical. Ok? But this one isn't. This one is highly directional, with the main force going through the face of the building, and virtually nothing the other way. There is no known way of configuring conventional explosives to behave like that. No way. I'd stake my life on it.'

Although the choice of words left a lot to be desired, Ironside appreciated the sentiment. And Frank was right, this was a whole lots worse. But Mark looked from Frank to Ironside, a frown on his face.

'New explosives? What's the deal?' he asked.

Ironside looked down to the ground before speaking.

'Something that can blow the front off a building, but leave it standing? Something that can destroy a area the size of a football field, but leave furniture intact? Something powerful, and deadly and very accurate? Something we know nothing about? Used to blow up a school building in the middle of San Francisco?'

Mark drew a deep breath, realising what the Chief was trying to say. Ironside looked round at them, with a grim sense of foreboding in his heart.

'Gentlemen,' he said softly. 'I think this is just the start.'

* * *

A/N Apologies for the delay, but we should get there in the end! With Extra fish going to Realmlife : )


End file.
